“Condolences?” She backed away toward her den.
"I heard about what happened to your mother. After what you witnessed at such a young age, " he shook his head, “this alliance must be difficult for you.”
“I—that was a long time ago. We've all known losses in this war.”
“Indeed. Thankfully—if your uncle and I succeed in uniting our nations—there will be no more.”
"And Silver," Rayna said.
“Pardon?”
“My aunt and uncle are equal partners in leadership, Overlord.”
Rhael smiled, but did not acknowledge her words. “Even so, I am sorry for what happened to your mother.” He walked toward her, taking her hand. “I hope my presence here has not stirred up old wounds, or nightmares.”
Rayna snatched away her hand. It was an odd choice of words: Old wounds, or nightmares. Did he know what she herself had only learned the previous day? She could not see how. It was a coincidence, but chilled her nonetheless. “Overlord, I appreciate your apology, but it is unnecessary. I sleep quite well,” she lied.
“Is that so?” Rhael's smile widened. “I am glad to hear it.”
“Rayna?” Roxen appeared behind Rhael, with Channon by his side. “Are you all right?” Roxen asked, his voice gruff as he stepped in between her and the Overlord. Channon strode to her other side, but said nothing as he stared at Rhael, the corner of his lip twitching.
Normally their protectiveness would've irritated her, but in this instance Rayna was grateful for their intervention. “I'm fine.” Her trembling voice belied her words. She hated the effect Rhael had on her.
“Is there something I can help you with, Lord Rhael?” Roxen asked, his hand closing around Rayna's shoulder.
“No, Beta Roxen. Thank you.” Rhael bowed and before Rayna could protest, he took her hand again and kissed it, letting his lips linger.
"Until next we meet, my dear," he said, turning back toward his camp.
After the Overlord had disappeared into his tent, Roxen lessened his grip on Rayna's shoulder. “What was that about?” he asked.
“I—I don't know,” Rayna said, dazed.
“Walk with me, Ray,” Channon said, entwining his fingers with hers. “Rox, I'll catch up with you later.”
Roxen nodded to them both and Rayna and Channon set off on the southern trail, hands still linked. Channon walked silently beside Rayna for some time and didn't speak until they were deep within the wilds among the True Wolf dens. It was as if he sensed she needed time to collect her thoughts.
“What was that about?” he repeated Roxen's question, holding back a growl.
“He apologized for what happened to my mother.”
“Why would he do that?”
Rayna shook her head. Was he threatening her? She could not see why he would. Was he trying to show friendly concern? That scared her even more.
“Rayna, why would he do that?” Channon's warm hand traveled up her arm.
“It's nothing,” she said, resting her hand on his. “I just don’t like talking about it, especially with him.”
After a moment, Channon slid his arm farther around her shoulders, pulling her into him. “Ray,” he said, propping his chin on her head. “Let’s hunt.”
Rayna and Channon returned to camp with a fresh pair of rabbits each. After they set them by the racks, Bayne joined them.
“Rayna, I need to speak with you.” A hint of anxiety shadowed his face. Channon nodded and left.
“What is it, Bayne?” she asked as he guided her toward his den. As they approached, Rayna smelled others already inside. Silver, Roxen, and Rhael. “What's going on?”
Bayne placed his hands on her shoulders. “We're entering our final deliberations. Rhael has suggested you be in this meeting.”
“Me? From his dismissal of Silver, I would not have expected the Overlord to think any females worthy of his time.”
“I know.” Bayne slid his hands down her arms. “Rayna, you don't have to talk to him. I don't want you to spend any more time with him than necessary. I'll tell him I did not think it appropriate.”
Rayna shook her head. “No. I'll do it. We're so close to peace. I don't want to risk insulting him now.”
Bayne scoffed. “Don't worry. Rhael's ego is too large to be easily damaged.”
Rayna chuckled. “I'll be fine. Let's end this war, for my parents and all the other Fenearens who have died because of it.”
Bayne squeezed her arm and led her into his den. Inside, Silver sat cross-legged beside Roxen in front of the hearth. Across from them, the Overlord looked almost comical as he sipped a cup of sassafras tea. When they entered, Rhael rose, ducking beneath the ceiling. Silver and Roxen stood as well.
“You found her,” Silver said in a tone that suggested she wished Bayne had not.
Rhael took Rayna's hand and kissed it. “Miss Myana, thank you for joining us. I had one last item I wished to discuss before we signed, and I hoped for your insight.”
A scathing remark sat on Rayna's tongue in response to Miss Myana. She was a Fenearen, not a pampered Maenoren courtier. She swallowed; it would do nothing to broker peace.
“What item?” Rayna asked as Rhael gestured for her to sit beside him. She chose a spot beside Silver, instead.
His left eyebrow twitched as he, too, sat. “We have discussed at length our people's reactions to this new alliance. Six centuries is a long time. Thousands of Maenorens and Fenearens have lost their lives to each other. My people tell stories of Fenearen monsters tearing out throats while howling for Maenoren blood.”
Roxen flexed his fist. “And we tell tales of Maenoren steel, of black magic, of Fenearens being dragged away as slaves to the Kyrean Republic, and of Da’ Gammorn slaughtering those who resist.”
“Da’ Gammorn?” Rhael laughed. “Corpses brought to life to kill the Overlord's enemies? That old story is propaganda, perpetuated by my family to frighten our enemies. The other terrors of which you speak, however, are true. Convincing our people not to fear one another, but join together, will be no easy feat.”
Silver slipped her hand over Rayna's. “Our people are afraid, and will do anything to escape their fear. They want the fighting to end. You have said your people are tired of the bloodshed, as well.”
“So they are.” Rhael placed his cup on the stone table between them and turned to Rayna's uncle, “Alpha Bayne, fear is indeed a powerful motivator, but in your experience as a hunter, when an animal makes a decision out of fear, how does it end for them?”
“Badly.” He crossed his arms. “What are you suggesting, Lord Rhael?”
“I am suggesting we move forward, not out of fear, but in unity. That we lead by example, not edict.”
“Pretty words,” said Roxen, “but what do they mean?”
“Centuries ago, before the Kyreans invaded Osterna and forced our ancestors from their homeland, leaving us to fight over scraps in the Peninsula, the greater part of the continent was ruled by a line of kings and queens.”
“The Delian Dynasty,” said Bayne.
“Indeed. The scrolls in my library tell of a peace that lasted one thousand years, where Maenorens, Fenearens, Soulousians, Alvornians, and Delians existed in harmony, where war was a distant memory. But do you imagine that there was never any discord, any disagreement, over land or resources in that time?”
“I suppose not.” Bayne's eyes narrowed. Rayna could not guess what the Overlord was trying to say.
“Of course, there were squabbles. Do you know how the Delians solved these problems? Not with swords or force. They would unite the two opposing sides as one family.”
“You mean...” Silver eyed the Overlord.
“In Maenor, we call it marriage.”
“You wish for a Fenearen to take a Maenoren as mate?” Bayne blinked, and his black eyes had thinned to the eyes of a wolf.
“I wish for a Fenearen to become my wife and Maenor's queen.”
“You can’t be serious,” Bayne
growled.
“Why not? What better way to forget six centuries of loss and hatred than to model forgiveness by uniting our two nations?”
Bayne exhaled, his eyes flicking back to their usual shape. “I understand your reasoning. However, you must understand the deep cultural differences between our nations.”
“Particularly in our attitudes toward women,” said Silver. “Where we Fenearens recognize no differences between the capabilities of males and females, Maenorens hold a different view.”
“A primitive view,” Rayna added, staring into the Overlord's black and gold gaze.
“You’re not wrong, Miss Myana. Perhaps, with a strong Fenearen as their queen, the attitudes of my nation could change. This partnership could lead both Maenor and Fenear into unprecedented positive growth in more ways than one.”
Silver glanced at Rayna, and then back to the Overlord. “Would you welcome such change, Lord Rhael?”
“Absolutely, Alphena Silverine. If I were given the opportunity.”
“If we considered this suggestion,” Bayne began, “how would the match be made? Do keep in mind that, in Fenear, no one will be forced to take a mate without their consent. If you want to marry a Fenearen, she must wish it too.”
“She must be well-known to your people, and well-loved. She must have suffered deep personal loss in this war, so that your people will have a genuine model of forgiveness. She must be strong, intelligent, and well-spoken. And, if I may insert a personal preference, beautiful.”
“Someone like Rayna, you mean,” Bayne said through clenched teeth.
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
Rayna searched for words, but found none. For a moment, she wondered if she were caught in one of her dreams.
“Let me be clear, Rhael. My niece is not a bargaining chip to be traded away. Marrying her is not an option. I will not allow it. Do you understand?”
“Forgive me, Alpha Bayne. But might Rayna not speak for herself? As Silverine reminded us, Fenearen women are as capable of speaking their mind as men.”
Bayne opened his mouth, revealing pointed canines, but closed it. He turned to Rayna, lifting his eyebrows.
She knew what he wanted her to say—what he and Silver and Roxen expected her to say, what she herself wished to say: No. As much as it pained her, though, Rhael had a point. When faced with the idea of an alliance with Maenor, Rayna herself had reacted with rage. Once she had allowed reason to overcome hate, she had seen how important this peace was. The idea of marrying Rhael was horrific, but the idea of her own selfishness compromising the treaty that would protect her people was even more repellent.
“It is an idea worthy of consideration.” The words limped from her mouth in a croak.
“What?” Bayne, Silver, and Roxen said in unison.
Rayna took a deep breath. “Rhael is right. I have more reason than most to hate Maenor, as our people know. If I were to publicly renounce that hate, it could show that we’re entering a new age.”
“I can’t believe I'm hearing this,” said Bayne.
Rayna faced her uncle. “You told me to put Fenear's safety above my personal grievances. You said the right choice is rarely the easy one. You were right, Bayne.” She turned to Rhael. “I'm not saying I'll marry you.” She paused. “But I will consider it.”
“That is all I ask. Give me a chance, Rayna, and I will not disappoint you.”
“Lord Rhael,” said Silver, “I understand why you think Rayna an appropriate choice, but she is half your age. That may not be unusual in Maenor, but in Fenear it is unprecedented.”
“I realize that. I also understand that Rayna is the closest thing you have to a daughter. I do not make this offer lightly. I think it is the best way to show our people what unity looks like, what family looks like.” Rhael smiled, and Rayna could not help but admit that he looked handsome and marginally less terrifying. “I do not wish to intrude on you any longer.” He leaned forward and picked up the quill resting on the stone surface. He signed his name beneath the treaty before handing it to Bayne to do the same.
“I feel satisfied with our agreement. Let us announce the good news tonight, and my people and I shall return to Maenor tomorrow. Meanwhile, Rayna, consider my proposal. I hope for you to join me, as my betrothed.” He rose, striding to the door. He looked back at her with a slight bow. “For what it’s worth, I think you will make a fearsome queen.” He departed, leaving Rayna with her shocked family.
“Rayna you cannot–”
“Must I remind you that I alone decide who I am willing to take as mate, Bayne?”
“Rayna, this is crazy! You–”
“Can't you see, Rox? Rhael is right. Without the mandate of the people, a treaty is only words. We need action if we're to convince our people to move past their pain. I need to do what's right. Please don't hold me back from what my conscience dictates. Besides, I haven't agreed to marry him, only consider it.”
Both men fell silent.
“Rayna, my darling. You're right.” Silver stood and guided Rayna to her feet as well. “This choice is yours to make. But I beg you, consider this carefully. Marriage, as Maenorens call it, is more than an exchange of words. As important as this alliance is, it is not worth your happiness—not to your uncle and I. You must ask yourself one question: can you love Rhael?”
No. She could never love Rhael. But that was not what mattered. Her marriage to Rhael would protect Fenear and everyone she knew from war. “I don't know, Silver. I don't know what the right choice is, but it's one I must make on my own. Thank you, all of you, for caring so much, but I need to be alone, to think.”
Bayne gripped her hand, his face an expressionless mask. “Go. Think. Just remember, this alliance is still new. Rhael has not yet earned our trust. If you insist on pursuing this, there will be precautions, and whatever you do, don’t forget what you are, who you are. Rhael may have swords and magic, but you are a wolf. If he ever hurts you, you kill him. Understand?”
Rayna hugged her uncle. “I understand.” After a moment, she pulled away, overwhelmed. “I—I need to think.” She rushed outside into the cool dusk air. Taking her wolf form, she trotted toward her own den. The choice before her crushed on her chest; she felt like she had run for leagues. Marry Rhael. Become a queen. How could she rule beside a man so terrible and strange? How could she love such a man?
She could reject him, but that would mean hypocritically forcing this sacrifice on another of her packmates. What would it mean to marry him? She would lose so much—the woods and wild of her home, the companionship of the True Wolves, the thrill of hunting. There would be no more hunting with Channon.
No more Channon at all.
She stopped as all breath escaped her. Losing everything else wrenched her heart, but it was possible. Losing Channon, and whatever it was that they had, left her with no heart at all. He was light, warmth, and freedom. If she married Rhael, she would devastate Channon. She did not know what her future to this point had looked like, but she knew that Channon had been in it somewhere. Marrying Rhael would take that future away from them both. Her thoughts turned to dark, cold, emptiness.
She had not agreed to marry Rhael yet. Only to consider his offer. She had not lost Channon. Not yet. Her breath returned in strained heaves as she started back along the path.
She shifted human and approached her den, taking in a familiar metallic scent. Rhael. He had been there. Recently. She stepped across her threshold and glanced around. Nothing was out of place, but there was something that had not been there before. She knelt beside her furs. Her hand shook as she traced her finger along the package wrapped in shining black silks. She recognized Rhael's handwriting from the treaty on a note with still drying ink.
“Something fit for a queen.”
Chapter Six
Rayna stared at the black and gold silks now draped across her pallet. It had taken her several moments to determine what exactly Rhael had given her. She had never worn a dress in h
er life. For as long as she could recall, she'd worn some variation of leather breeches and a vest. She had a few soft doeskin items, her underclothes and the like, but nothing made of silk. It would not even change with her when she formed. Only animal skins did. The impractical fabric slipped like water through her fingers—so easy to catch on thorns and branches. But then Maenoren ladies did not run through the woods as far as she knew.
Rayna paced the dirt floor, stopping to stoke her fire. Channon was the first person on her mind. Every other time she had faced a difficult decision, like whether to train as a warrior or become a hunter instead, it had been Channon who had talked her through the options. Channon had taken impossible choices and helped her realize her own mind. When it came to responding to Rhael’s offer, however, she knew Channon would be as blinded by love for her as the rest of her family. He would tell her that marrying Rhael was insane. That she was acting the hero unnecessarily. Rayna could not bear to think of Channon’s face when she had to tell him she was considering it. Channon would think she had betrayed him, that she did not care about him. But if marrying Rhael was best for Fenear, did she have a choice? Would Channon eventually understand why she had sacrificed their future? Would he ever forgive her?
As Rayna’s gaze traveled from the dress to the green vial beside her pillow, another, gut-twisting thought wrenched her mind. Perhaps leaving Channon now, letting him hate her, would be kinder in the end. After what Thera had told her, it was possible that no sleeping draught would control her prophetic dreams forever. The visions had driven her great-grandmother mad, and they had nearly destroyed her mother, too. One day, the family curse might claim Rayna's mind. She could not put Channon—or any of her family—through that. Besides, if the rumors surrounding Rhael’s powers were true, if Rayna ever grew to trust him, then perhaps he could put an end to her dreams for good.
Orange light seeped beneath the walls of her den. It was sunset and Rhael expected an answer as to whether she would accompany him before he left the next morning. She had told Bayne, Silver, and Roxen that she needed time to think. The truth was, she had made up her mind there in her aunt and uncle’s den. She just had not been ready to face it, especially in front of them. To Bayne, Silver, and Roxen, she was still the orphaned child who needed protection, but because of their love and guidance she had been able to take care of herself for a long time. As she left her den with one last look at the dress stretched across her furs, she told herself they would understand, one day.
Hex Breaker (The Fenearen Chronicles Book 1) Page 6